"You dare insult my PC-ness? Who the hell do you think you are, talking about replacing me with another laptop or a Mac? A Mac?! Do you know who I am? I'm an intelligent being, dammit and you hurt my feelings. Don't you know what I could do to you? I am your lifeline to the outside world and you go and talk smack about me. That's it, we're through. I'm outie."

Fuuuuuhhhck.

A couple of weeks ago Chicky Baby pulled my laptop off of the couch where it usually sits, keeping my seat warm for me, and like a piece of buttered toast falling buttered side down the thing inevitably fell straight down on the power cord. I was able to rig it just so to keep giving juice (or, life blood, as I like to think of it) to my computer until Halloween night. I awoke the next morning to find a cold, dead computer. Flatlined. Beeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeep.

Time of death - who the hell cares?! My computer won't come back on!

I started getting the shakes immediately.

I knew I was attached to my computer but I had no idea the depth of my dependence on that stupid black box until I didn't have it to kick around any more. Ain't that always the way?

It was so bad that I had to beg my husband for five minutes with his laptop, just five minutes, puhleeeeaze, just five minutes. I need to publish my Blog Exchange post. I need to check my email. I need to write about the loves of my blog life. I need to write other blog posts because I have great fodder. I need to surf for celebrity gossip. I need, I need, I need....

What I need is help. An intervention perhaps?

Hi, I'm Mrs. Chicky and I'm a computer-holic.

I am proud to say that I stopped short of offering sexual favors in return for precious minutes with a computer. And today the new power cable arrived in the mail (um, just a second... Fuck you and your proprietary self, Dell. I had to next day ship the sucker because you don't sell your parts at places like Circuit City. Fuck you very much.) so I won't be greeting Mr. C at the door wearing nothing but cellophane and a smile, ready to do what needs to be done to tire him out so he won't notice me sneaking away for a tawdry affair with a piece of electronic equipment.

Sorry, hon, maybe for you birthday.

Oh, how did it get to this point? I'm like Halle Berry's character in Jungle Fever. I need my fix and I didn't have it for a whole day. One. Whole. Day. Yet I didn't die. I got the shakes but I didn't get the DT's. I didn't need methadone. I didn't knock over a CVS for oxycontin. I did eat a lot of chocolate bars, but who isn't this week?

Maybe there's hope for me after all.

Anyone want to start a support group with me? I'll bring the coffee and the folding chairs.

I'm with you on the computer dependence. I've seriously had conversations that went: "I'll send you an email/You don't have an email address?! You mean I'll have to call you on the phone?? Welcome to the year 2006!!

I think my husband would commit me to just such a support group - mine keeps the couch warm for me too, and I keep petting it reassuringly now that I have no plans to trade it in. No macs on the horizon for me, no siree. Just keep chuggin' along, little lappie.

Ok wait it is not funny. This addiction is serious bizness. As long as the sexual favors don't extend to the Dell customer service rep or the courier delivering your new power cable, you should be fine.

man, i am soooo with you on this one. i find myself sitting in class or something, just thinking about all the stuff happening on the internet AND I'M MISSING IT! i'm like linus with his blanket - take it away and i'm a sobbing puddle of mess. :-P

Two years ago Husband bought me a brand new Dell laptop for Christmas. Three months later, one of the cats knocked over a glass of water and fried it. I was nearly catatonic with grief. I feel your pain.

Will the folding chairs have those little desk-like arms where we can rest our laptops? I mean, like, we wouldn't have to turn them ON. We could just, like, put our cookies on them or something. Just for the first few minutes . . .

So, so, sorry. You are under too much stress. I can't imagine my computers (I have 3 to choose from)dying on me. You must get a back up for situations like that. Of course giving sexual favors in return for computer time does not sound so bad. Heck, you could even have the computer help out...

I spent an entire week without my computer in early October. It was refreshing and liberating (or maybe that was the North Carolina moutain air?). Whatever. The very second I got home, I renewed my habit with fervor. Now that I'm back from my blogging hiatus, I've literally got the letters of my keypad permanently indented into my fingertips. Yikes! Let me know where the meeting is.

This is my nightmare. And I can see this happening -- my toddler hates it when I'm on my laptop for more than a few miknutes and not giving him my undivided attention, so he'll start trying to hit it, pull on it, push bottons, etc. I figure that someday he's just going to start jumping up and down on it when he finds it unprotected.